see you next wednesday
by Laura013
Summary: "Lassiter turned around and walked out the door. Stopping in the doorframe, he added, 'See you next Wednesday'." Carlton/Marlowe, mentions of Shawn/Juliet. one-shot COMPLETE


**Disclaimer: I don't own the Psych series, or any of the characters**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**"Love is not an equation, it is not a contract and it is not a happy ending. Love is the slate under the chalk, the ground that buildings rise, and the oxygen in the air. It is the place you come back to, no matter where you're headed."**

**-Jodi Picoult**

* * *

"Lassiter, if you don't mind my asking, where do you go every Wednesday?" As the head detective of the SBPD scribbled on a pad of paper, he paid little attention to the perky young blonde standing over his shoulder.

"Does it matter?" His voice was vague, as if his mind was in another galaxy.

"Yes, because I can't keep covering for you with Chief Vick." Juliet hopped back and forth on her feet nervously.

"Just tell her I have… an appointment." He smiled at his euphemism.

"Whatever, Carlton." The detective stood up, tucking the pad of paper into his lapel.

"Thank you, O'Hara. It means a lot." She smiled back at him, before meeting her psychic detective boyfriend. Did anyone at the SBPD have a normal significant other? He wasn't going to deny it, as much as he hated Shawn Spencer, he did make Juliet very happy. And Juliet really did need that in her life.

"Lassie, where you headed?" The detective stopped dead in his tracks and heaved a large, visible sigh. He turned his head over his shoulder, trying to hide his contempt.

"An appointment."

"Didn't you have an appointment _last_ Wednesday?" Shawn Spencer would not give up.

"Wow, Spencer, so observant! Goodbye!" he said sarcastically, and then he walked out of the door.

"Jules, where is he going?"

"I have absolutely no idea."

* * *

After removing his aviator sunglasses, Detective Carlton Lassiter confidently stalked into the Santa Barbara Penitentiary.

"George." He nodded in the general direction of the security guard.

"Detective Lassiter. Same person?" Lassiter nodded.

"We're pulling her from her cell now. Good luck on getting this one to break, Detective Lassiter." Lassiter smiled.

"I don't believe she's going to break, George. At least, not while I'm here." George frowned, and they called Lassiter back.

* * *

"Hmm, that's odd." Juliet O'Hara stared at the computer screen, trying to ignore the two grown men breathing awkwardly on her neck. She could understand why Shawn was that close to her, but was it really necessary for Burton Guster's face to be right next to hers?

"What is it, Jules?" Shawn leaned it, knocking his shoulder into the back of her head. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Lassiter's badge ID just checked into the Santa Barbara Penitentiary."

"Well can you tell who he's visiting?" She jumped at Gus's voice in her ear.

"Yeah… Give me a second."

"Well, who is it?" Shawn's nervous energy was making her feel nervous.

Juliet scowled, but then her jaw dropped.

"Oh my God!"

"Come on, Jules, who's he visiting!" Shawn and Gus spoke in unison.

"Marlowe Vicccelio."

"Wasn't that the blood bank lady? The one Lassie was sleeping with?"

"God, Shawn, don't be so insensitive!" Juliet was appalled at her boyfriend's actions.

"I think it's sweet," Gus said.

"Well of course you do, when it comes to emotions, you're like a 60 year old black woman!" Juliet sighed at her boyfriend, yet again. Why did it still surprise her?

"That's racist!" Gus's voice raised in pitch.

"Your mom's racist!" Shawn yelled after him.

"Shawn!" Gus then proceeded to chase Shawn across the station

Juliet turned around and realised that the boys didn't hear her. They were already dancing around the station, in some sort of circle. Juliet couldn't tell if they were fighting or dancing. Juliet couldn't help but smile as she logged out of the system. At least Lassiter was happy.

* * *

"Hello Marlowe." Lassiter stood calmly on the other side of the glass.

"Carlton," she whispered.

"It's nice to see you again, Marlowe." He smiled at the woman, and while a smile normally felt foreign on the detective's lips, he almost felt at home. In a prison room.

"It's nice to see you as well, Carlton. How's the outside life?"

"It's nice. Not as nice as it would be with you. But it's nice. How's prison?" The question was almost rhetorical.

"Thanks to you, it's not as bad as I'd thought."

"Why thanks to me?" Lassiter curiously frowned.

"Well, everyone's scared of you. So now they're scared of me too." Lassiter smiled.

"Good. I'm glad you're okay. Just let them know, if anyone lays a finger on you, I will discharge my pistol, and I will kill them, and I will make it look like a bloody accident. And all of the SBPD will back me up." Marlowe smiled at the detective's comment. Carlton himself broke his stony face and smiled.

Marlowe's hand traveled to the glass, and his hand met hers.

"I'll still wait for you," he whispered. She smiled.

"For how long?" she whispered back.

"Six to eighteen months," he said, his voice volume growing.

"Not forever?" she said in a fake southern accent.

"Always," he changed his accent to match hers, and he laughed heartily.

Suddenly, he sobered up.

"Goodbye, Marlowe." His eyes were sad.

"Goodbye, Lassiter." His hand fell, but hers lingered on the glass.

Lassiter turned around and walked out the door. Stopping in the doorframe, he added, "See you next Wednesday."


End file.
